


Calefaction

by hid4n



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Begging, Biting, Blood and Injury, Consensual Violence, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 07:24:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3372803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hid4n/pseuds/hid4n
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just simply being around Takao bothers Midorima in a way he's unlikely to admit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calefaction

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't exactly a two-person work, but Midorima fantasizes pretty vividly about Takao, so I think it'll be okay.  
> Also, this was written during a pretty bad writers block, so if it's a bit... lacking?... I'm sorry, but I tried my best. Hopefully it's alright.

That stupid hairstyle. Those stupid eyes. That stupid _smirk_. All of it, driving him crazy like this.

Midorima groaned, his hot breath a striking contrast against the cool room. Peering through thin eyelashes, the shooting guard stared at the ceiling, sliding his hand over a well lubricated cock.

Who did he think he was? Always being so damn kind to him… expressing concern in the least fatal situations, always looking at him with those pretty eyes, failing to turn a watchful eye in his direction every time he missed a shot, dropped the ball, slipped up his task. It wasn’t like Midorima _owed_ him anything – what could he owe him for? Midorima took care of himself. He didn’t need to owe someone like _him_ …

“T-Takao…” Quivering lips parted briefly, allowing a quiet moan to escape. He… he needed this, he needed this so badly. He didn’t even want to try and count the times he caught himself playing ridiculous scenarios out in his head. He wanted to know what those lips would taste like – with the gentle curve of Takao’s lower lip, Midorima couldn’t help but think that it would fit perfectly between his own lips. And his hands – _shit_. Would Takao touch him gently, or would he be rough? Midorima squeezed the base of his cock, exhaling sharply at the thought of Takao grasping his hips aggressively. _So good, so good_ …

Slick sounds filled the stagnant room, almost consistently paced with Midorima’s staggered breathing. Yeah, rough Takao was good. Midorima craved those strong fingers, digging into the subtle hollows of his hips, grinding into the marrow with an intensity that only the two of them could have. And those thumbs – they would have calluses from the hours of practice Takao had put into the sport. They’d drive Midorima crazy; that intimate contrast between Takao’s rough skin and his own, velvety flesh pulled taut over defined pelvic curves.

Brushing his thumb over the head of his cock, Midorima bit his lip, silencing yet another yearning moan. Did Takao like to bite? _Fuck_ , Midorima wanted Takao to bite him – sinking his teeth into flushed flesh, breaking the flawless canvas and staining it red. That’s it – that’s what Midorima wanted. To have Takao above him, holding his head to the side and sinking his perfect teeth into Midorima’s throat, destroying the unblemished flesh underneath his wet lips.

Ah, but would Takao wrinkle his nose at the taste of blood? No... no. Not in Midorima’s fantasy. Takao would love it – he would crave it, lust after the thick, metallic taste of Shin-chan’s blood. Midorima jerked his head back, gasping as he imagined Takao grasping at his ravaged throat, holding the shooting guard there while he bit wounds all the way down to his nipples.

“Hhn – harder,” He urged breathlessly, one hand crawling up his bare chest and throat, settling at his lips. Slowly, Midorima licked his fingers, the gentle sweep of his tongue against his sensitive fingertips sending a sharp jolt of arousal straight to his groin. He pushed his own callused fingers past soft lips, tongue curling and sucking hungrily at the digits. Would Takao suck on his nipples like this? Just the thought caused Midorima writhe, back arching up and away from the bed in his fever.

He was getting close – _fuck_ , he was so close – but he didn’t want to finish; not yet. He wanted more of Takao, he wanted Takao to have more of him. Pulling his fingers from his mouth, Midorima reached down to cup his balls, moaning quietly in frustration as he delayed his orgasm. This wasn’t the first time he had denied himself climax – the burn was so sweet, and mixed with bitter dissatisfaction, it was foolish to think that he _hadn’t_ done this before. If it ever got too frustrating for him, he imagined Takao grinning above him, squeezing at the base of his cock while he cooed a quiet “ _Not yet, Shin-chan…_ ” against the inside of his thigh.

Ah, and Takao’s _voice_ … Midorima could never decide which he liked more – the idea of a high, sultry moan coming from that foolish mouth, or a deep, rugged purr of pleasure vibrating from well-used vocal cords. He guessed it depended on the day, and today, he fancied the latter.

Midorima had the fleeting thought ‘What if he could see me right now?’ but it was weak, and if anything, the humiliation of the idea only spurred him on as he reached for the bottle of lube set neatly on the edge of his nightstand. Tentatively releasing the hold he had between his legs, the shooting guard poured a generous amount of the clear liquid into the palm of his hand, snapping the cap shut.

Midorima hissed at the cool sensation of the liquid, sliding his hands together and spreading the lubrication along the lengths of his fingers and between. Shakily, he leaned to his left, hip grinding into the mattress beneath him.

Biting back a moan, Midorima closed his eyes and imagined Takao’s hands on him, sliding down from his bony hips to his sinewy thighs, tracing imaginary shapes with delicate movements.

“ _Open your legs, Shin-chan_ ,” That slow, syrupy voice against his flesh – Midorima could all but feel himself melt as his fantasy Takao dug strong fingers into the gentle curve of his thighs, coaxing them apart.

Midorima wanted him to be rough here, too. Blunt fingernails digging into the skin and drawing goosebumps along the length of one leg while Takao’s other hand moved to cup his teammate’s backside, lubricated fingers sliding along, prodding, teasing the cleft of his ass. Ah, and that sweet sting of pain, muddled with a forbidden sense of pleasure as embedded nails were dragged over Midorima’s thigh....

Pushing a finger against his entrance, Midorima felt a whimper coil up deep inside his chest. _Takao…_ Sliding a slick digit past the tight ring of muscle, Midorima gasped, palming his throbbing erection with his free hand. _Ah, s–so good…_ Curling a bit on his side, the basketball player pushed his finger deeper, imagining the heat of Takao’s breath on the inside of his thigh while he bit a line straight up to his cock. _Harder…_ The alluring thought of pain flaring up inches from his erection made Midorima writhe, the finger in his ass moving slowly. _Harder harder harder harder…_

Blood. Blood trickling down his leg from where Takao was sinking his teeth in, deeper, deeper… Midorima moaned, eyes rolling up as he fingered himself, biding his time before adding another finger to his ass. He wanted to beg Takao – no, he wanted Takao to _make_ him beg before he would add another finger. “ _You want another finger in you, Shin-chan?_ ” Midorima grinded his teeth together, pressing another finger against his entrance while nodding feverishly. His lips quivered, a soft ‘p-please...’ pushing past clenched teeth. “ _So slutty. Who would have thought you’d beg me for this…?_ ” An amused Takao drew out his words, smirking past bloodied lips while cooing in a sultry tone.

“F-fuck, Takao, _please_.” Midorima almost screamed the last word, and with a relenting face, the Takao in his fantasy laughed, shoving another finger in. Midorima was quick to copy the figment of his imagination, stretching himself the same way he wished Takao would.

“ _You’re going to come, just from my fingers inside your tight ass, aren’t you Shin-chan? That’s disgusting!_ ” Midorima swallowed, hearing Takao’s voice, his laugh grow shrill in his head with excitement. Yeah, he really was disgusting when it came to Takao – god, he wanted Takao in so many ways, he’d be delusional if he said he was anything _but_ disgusting. Just this half-assed fantasy – loosely fabricated around the innocent fact that Takao had patted his shoulder today at practice – made blood rush to his cock, his skin prickle with sweat.

Pushing his fingers deep, filling himself up, Midorima held his breath and focused on his left hand, fingers wrapped around scalding hot flesh. He wanted Takao to notice how hard he was, to kiss away the droplet of pre-cum that’d be leaking from his slit. “ _Look at this mess you’re making..._ ” Midorima gyrated his hips, thrusting his erection through a loosely formed fist. _Touch me_ , he thought, face contorted in an expression of painful concentration. He felt his sense of reality slipping away, mind melting with the pleasure he – or was it Takao? – was giving himself.

“Touch me,” he moaned, making his desire obvious with a broken and raspy voice.

 _Fuck_ , was he thinking that, or was he saying that? And was Takao _really_ pressing his soft lips against the head of his cock, or was he imagining it? God – it didn’t matter. It felt good, so good, and Midorima had a hard time catching his breath as the Takao between his legs smiled that stupid… that _stupid_ fucking smile, opened his mouth slowly, and lapped a thick, hot line along the underside of Midorima’s cock.

Wet heat. Rough heat. Burning heat. Hot, hot, hot… Takao’s mouth, hot, wet, sticky; his fingers, so deep, thrusting even deeper, a third finger, maybe a fourth; his cock – ah, why wasn’t it inside him yet? Midorima tossed his head to the side, let out a long, breathless moan of pleasure and protest. Fuck, he needed more… Takao had to give him more...

Midorima rolled his hips and fucked himself on his fingers – Takao’s fingers – while jogging his cock with slick fingers. His harsh panting intermingled with the soft, lewd noises of his hands, painting a painfully embarrassing scene in the stuffy room, but it didn’t matter. Fuck, _fuck_ , he was so close. Midorima bit his lip, feeling the heat build in the pit of his abdomen. He felt sluggish but hot, as if he were coming undone at the seams. And he might as well have been.

“G.. gonna c-come, I’m gonna come Takao...” He rasped. His throat – Christ, his throat felt like it was bleeding, constricting, fighting against his moans, hot, so hot like everything else…

“ _Come for me, Shin-chan. Bathe in your own filthy cum while you think about me in your pathetic, disgusting fantasy._ ”

It didn’t matter if Midorima had his eyes opened or closed – the flash of white seemed to come from behind his eyes, blinding him, bathing him in a hot light as he felt the tension in his body begin to unfurl. He flinched when he came, warm semen spilling over his toned abdomen, cramped hand, all along his erection. The sensation of his ass and cock twitching, throbbing with his release was always eerie, but _oh_ , so good. He could live with it forever, but when a cool wave of relief swam over his stiff muscles, it was nearly over.

Body covered in sweat, Midorima laid as still as his shuddering lungs would allow him. After a minute of heaving breaths, the shooting guard raised his soiled hand to his face, absently dipping his tongue into the spattered cum.

“Stupid fucking Takao.”


End file.
